HAVING THE GANAS

Beingin ensemble has its perks. I relaxed backstage, scrolling through my phone, sitting in one of the few chairs in the men’s dressing room. I still had a couple of minutes before I needed to go back on stage. We had just pulled off a great opening performance of In The Heights earlier that night, and I was confident that the rest of the performances would go off without a hitch. While the tech week we just had was hell for many reasons, I had always believed that the magic of theater somehow makes things come together before opening night. Luckily, that belief held true. I sat back comfortably in my chair, humming along to the catchy songs that I could hear all the way from the dressing room. I looked up from my phone as I realized that the music onstage had come to a complete stop. Someone later came into the dressing room to explain that our show was being shut down because of a miscommunication on curfew.

Iwas in a really sour mood the rest of the night.

It was so frustrating to know that you had helped create a piece of art that touched so many people on such a personal level, only for reality to come stepping in. For those couple of hours between our opening performance and the shutdown, I had let myself hope that theater could be a welcoming space for Latines at Yale.

I’ve had many moments where I felt deep down that I wasn’t going to get any part as I left an audition room. Not because I thought I did badly, but because the director was a little too pushy with his notes, or gave notes that didn’t really make sense. Or, the dismissive tone in their voice as they wished me a nice day made it clear that I was going to be reading a rejection email soon.

At the end of the day, I had learned that I’m not supposed to take stuff like that personally. But I’m only human, so that nagging doubt starts to set in. I start to wonder if there were other reasons why a prod team seemed so eager to get me out of the audition room as soon as possible. They often say that casting is up to whether the director can realistically see you in a role or not. Is it that they literally couldn’t see me in a specific kind of role?

WhenI would walk home from a particularly messy In the Heights rehearsal, it still felt satisfying to know that you were working with so many others who wanted to tell a meaningful Latine story. While the show wasn’t perfect, no show is, and it was an experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Ihadnever directed anything before, but I wasn’t going to let experience stop me. I quickly typed up an audition packet, and submitted all the show information to the Yale College Arts page. The next 10 weeks were a blessing and a curse. It was anxiety-inducing to have to be that assertive in a room with such a large cast. While it was a lot of pressure to be the person to make the decisions and to have a vision for a show, it left me with a new perspective. I gained a lot of empathy for other directors I’ve had at Yale, understanding what it must feel like to have a full room of people waiting on you to decide what’s next. During early rehearsals, I looked blankly at my blocking notes, wondering if I was actually going to be able to pull it all off. But whenever a scene came together or an actor took a note really well, I felt more stable. I started to let myself quietly hope again. Come opening night, and that anxiety was still floating around. I had found a quiet confidence in myself as well. I remember talking to a former suite mate of mine who saw the final performance, and he told me that a certain character’s monologue made him cry in the theater. Then and there I knew that for all the flaws in the show, or the doubt in my own abilities as a director, we were able to create something that touched people dearly. I had never performed in a show with such a receptive audience before. They would laugh so hard during funny scenes, or gasp out loud during a dramatic scene, or snap their fingers whenever they agreed with something a character said. I don’t think I could’ve put into words the experience of those performances until now.

IwantLatine theatermakers in the years to come to feel welcome in a Yale theater space. But that only happens when the theater being made speaks to them on a level that reaches their shared identity and culture. My goal now is to continue to be a part of that carved-out space for Latine theatermakers at Yale. I am happy that this generation has started to carve it out, and that I get to be a part of that.

Translations

My mother, she says there’s no way to feel something If you don’t have a word for it, and maybe she’s right Because sometimes I feel in Spanish— That language, my language, the one that Catches in my throat when I eat too much chocolate And I’m left empalagada

Sits by me on those nights I stay up way too late

And is still there the morning after When I wake up trasnochada

Tells me to ponerme las pilas and stay on top of things

When they’re about to get peluas

Offers up an alternative when I forget a word—

Uh, it’s the vaina, that vaina, no vaina, que vaina esa vaina

Wraps me up along with all the layers I put on in winter

Because I’m so friolenta and there’s burda de wind

Slips into my smile when that’s more than cool, it’s chevere

When I realize my friends have become panas

When I realize I have a dictionary of emotions

That I can never really describe in English, No matter cuantas ganas I have to try, No matter how much eso me aturde—

When I realize that there’s a way to feel in two languages

Within the cracks where things get lost in translation

God, Seraphim, Woman

Hips, lips, legs, and thighs, the altar in your religion, she is the mother of your God. From holy lips she tells you to go f**k yourself, vete a la mierda.

Pour soil into her palms and she will hand you back the Garden of Eden only to be overtaken by your honeysuckle.

She now hides behind your cigar smoke and makes your coffee in the morning to sober you up. She is your woman, but she is not your wife, and you won’t swear sanctity but you will suck on her skin and bite her bottom lip.

She looks like roadkill these days, limping home by herself, now praying to empty bodegas and alley cats to be revived.

Bailar, bailar y bailar.

The beat and the rhythm subconsciously activate the muscles in my body and the movement of my feets to start following the beat. Using the beat to create patterns, movements, and steps. It's an ongoing movement and enjoyment.

That is what dancing means to me. It’s joy.

Being born and raised in the Dominican Republic, I was constantly surrounded by music. At home while my mom was cleaning, in the colmados, from the cars passing by. The music was always there. The fast paced rhythms and clear sounds of instruments shape the movements that bring dance to life.

No family gathering would be complete without the blasting music and dancing. No matter how old you were, you were going to end up dancing with your aunts, uncles, cousins, and any family friend that was there. My core memories come from being at family gatherings and getting pulled to dance. Being in the streets on a weekend night blasting Zacarias Ferreiras from my uncle’s white car, defined my childhood.

As I moved to the U.S. and found myself looking for ways to stay connected with my culture, I found myself going back to dance. It’s when I found myself admiring the art. I didn’t realize how much dancing means to me, and the appreciation I have for my culture, until I found myself in spaces where dancing merengue, bachata, salsa were missing. I did not always see dancing as a talent that I had or something that I chose to do, it was simply an activity that brought me joy and kept me connected to my culture.

That was why for me, coming to college I knew that I wanted to have dancing be my safe space. My time to enjoy myself and be connected to home. It wasn’t until then that I realized how important dance was to me. I did not realize that it was one of those things that I would miss once I stepped out of my house.

I’ll always appreciate the comfort and happiness that dancing brings to me. It’s one of the best de-stressors, giving me time that I can take for myself to forget about everything else that might be going on in the world around me. I’m grateful for having a culture that embraces such an art and that makes dancing a core part of who we are, together.